


Georgia Blues

by Joules Mer (joulesmer)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Christopher Pike Lives, Dadmiral Christopher Pike, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-12-09 13:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20995382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joulesmer/pseuds/Joules%20Mer
Summary: Jim fucks around.  Predictably, someone else has to deal with the aftermath.OrChris looked at her pink lips and blue eyes and thoughtbeautiful... until she started to scream.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> File this one under _things that probably should have just been left as a 200 word joke_...

The _ping_ of an incoming message came at seven o’clock on a Thursday, which was strange because nothing of note ever happened on a Thursday evening around Starfleet command. _Dear Admiral Christopher Pike, As designated secondary next of kin of James Tiberius Kirk I am writing to inform you… _.

Chris narrowed his eyes as he read further, one hand clenching under the desk as shock turned to anger and then resignation. “Damn it, son.” He set down the padd and scrubbed a hand over his face. “What the hell were you thinking?”

********************

The social worker met him at Starfleet Medical at 0830 the following morning. Chris’ hair was still wet because he’d spent most of the night wide awake in a state of increasing horror and then nearly managed to oversleep after he finally crashed at 0445.

As the mother was deceased and left no family, there are precisely three options presented to him:

One: Unnamed Baby is put up for adoption as soon as possible, to promote bonding with her future parent(s)

Two: Baby Kirk is put into the foster system until such a time as her biological father can be reached, but for not more than four months before the state may seek to proceed with a more permanent alternative placement in the best interests of the child.

Three: Baby Kirk goes home with Chris, as her de facto next of kin. Evidently the surgeon general had already interceded to serve as a character reference and expedite the paperwork to get Chris named as guardian, _should he so desire._ Well intentioned though it was, Phil was always a meddler.

The only problem: Chris didn’t have a fucking clue what Jim would want. What twenty-six year old Starfleet captain wants to become a single father? He vacillated over the padds; Jim was on a scientific deep space mission and they weren’t expecting to regain contact for three months, possibly four if the data collection took longer than expected.

_It’s going to be okay, son._ He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out as a croak when he said, “Three— I’ll take her.”

She was _tiny_. Four days old, but at least without that creepy bald monkey vibe that some infants seem to have. Chris looked at her pink lips and tiny nose and blue eyes and thought _beautiful_... until she started to scream. Phil looked like he thought this was the funniest thing he’d ever seen; which tended to be a theme whenever Chris was woefully out of his element.

When Chris glanced up in pure terror that he was holding her wrong, Phil just clapped a hand on his back and started to steer them towards the door. “Come on, we can get you a bag of supplies from the maternity ward and I’ll have a nurse come by the house to show you how to do everything the first few days.”

**********

_Name(s)_

Chris stared at the padd for a moment, then scrawled in _Georgia_. The box still looked mostly empty so he added, _Christine_— the name of the chief nurse on the Enterprise who’d been a key part of his salvation in the aftermath of the Narada, and he suspected still kept McCoy sane out there as well. It was also a promise, of sorts, an _I will always be there for you_. The last bit was easy. Those blue eyes? _Kirk_. He was tempted to make it _Kirk-McCoy_ just to make a point, but babies weren’t supposed to be used for score-settling. Besides, those things were easy enough to change later.

“Well, Georgia. Looks like it’s you and me.”

She looked up at him through slightly crossed eyes and blew a little bubble of spittle.

It was three weeks into it that he broke down weeping at 0230. Georgia wasn’t settling and he didn’t think anything was wrong with her, but he couldn’t remember when he’d last slept and his leg was bothering him again so he couldn’t walk and rock her in the way she seemed to like and all his laundry was dirty and he’d already had to clean an unspeakable mess out of the crib (_Huggies Dependable_ his ass) and he was pretty sure he’d forgotten to eat dinner at some point… The glare of light from the vid comm just made Georgia howl even louder as he said, “I can’t do this, Phil.”

And Phil just looked at him with his damned kind eyes and sighed and then replied, “You can— you just can’t do it _alone_.”

Of all the ways that all the betting pools had wagered on them getting together over the years, this was not what anyone had imagined, but Phil held a baby like a man who had enjoyed his L&D rotation more than he’d ever let on. One was going to be pissed that she’d never put any money on _realizing they make sexy grandpas_.

**********

Chris pressed record before putting the transmission request through; he knew someday he’d be able to look back and laugh at the expression on Kirk’s face. It didn’t take long for the comm to get routed through to the young captain’s ready room and he was met by Jim, looking that peculiar mix of happy to see him, insouciant and a little bit nervous that seemed to precede their calls when it had been more than a month since they’d last spoken. McCoy was predictably hovering over his shoulder as well, so Chris didn’t waste any time in gently lifting Georgia out of her bassinet and holding her up for the camera as he said, “Congratulations, Jim. It’s a girl.”

Yup, that facial expression was worth it. _Gold_. The kid hadn’t looked so flustered since he’d been caught doing unspeakable things with a Deltan on the roof of Archer Hall in his first year at the academy. A high-pitched, rasping whine seemed to be about all Jim could manage to accompany the words, “She’s mine? How—” Jim Kirk: tongue-tied. That was a first.

Chris didn’t strictly know what had happened, but the timeline was suspicious enough… “Well, when a captain is in the mood to celebrate a successful shakedown cruise and has a few too many Risan Mai Tais... “ As realization dawned in the kid’s eyes, Chris gently rearranged Georgia in his arms and continued, “I agreed to be your next of kin, not your nursemaid. There is a _baby-seat_ in the back of my very expensive sports flitter, Kirk. I haven’t had more than three hours of sleep in one stretch in weeks and Phil thinks it’s hilarious when I show up with stains down the back of my uniform.”

Jim’s mouth was still flapping open and shut and he only just managed to get a few words out that might have been, “Oh my god.”

It would have been funny, if not for the almighty crash as McCoy hit the deck. Chris hadn’t even realized the man’s eyes had rolled back. By the time they got McCoy, grey-faced, into a chair Georgia was starting to fuss so he shifted her closer and got her to take a bottle.

He looked up to find Jim peering curiously into the camera. “She’s really mine?”

There was something in that tone that made Chris feel a wave of relief that, yes, he’d done the right thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim drunk-comming him wasn’t anything new per se, but when the kid appeared on the vid screen twelve hours later with disheveled hair, bleary eyes, and the first words out of his mouth were, “I don’t want to give up the Enterprise,” Chris had to take a deep breath.

They’d talked about this, him and Phil, about what would— and could— happen.

Jim continued in a choked voice, thick with emotion, “But I don’t want to leave her behind,” _like I was_ unspoken but plain from the distress in his eyes. Chris wondered where McCoy was; he didn’t usually let Jim get in a state like this alone if he could help it.

“Where’s Leonard?” The conversation had wrapped up too-soon that afternoon, without time for any of the practicalities they needed to discuss. Jim made a gesture that seemed to indicate _on duty_— it was deep into beta shift so something must have come up in the med bay. Steeling himself, Chris tried to project a confidence that may or may not be warranted as he replied, “You don’t have to choose like that, son. So long as I’m looking after her she’ll know it’s duty, and it matters.” Implicit was the promise that she’d never question whether her daddy loved his ship more than her. 

Jim’s face crumpled and he tried to say something, but the words were indistinct.

“We’ll work it out, son. Right now she needs stability and a parent at home with her— let me and Phil help with that and we can sort out the rest later.”

Jim grabbed a cloth— a gym shirt?— from off camera and rubbed it over his face, smearing snot and tears in an inebriated effort to appear more composed. Red faced, he raised his eyes to the camera again and softly asked, “You named her?”

Chris swallowed, because she’d needed a name, but it was a hell of a thing to have done.

Jim’s lips quirked and something loosened in Chris’ chest. “It’s a good name.” That Kirk glint was back in his eye as he continued, “You should’ve seen Bones when we read the paperwork: he puffed right up like it wasn’t just about my dad.”

“It kind of wasn’t,” Chris confessed, because the only thing he could have done that would be more obvious was actually appending _McCoy_ on her last name.

“I know,” Jim smiled at that, a _real_ smile. “He does too, when he’s not having a panic attack. Chapel’s going to be really pleased too— once we tell her; we’re kind of keeping it under wraps for now while we figure things out. And I’m sure Georgia’ll be happy to have you in there as well.”

It was utter madness that the next words out of Chris’ mouth were, “You do the diplomatic run you’ve got slated and we’ll meet you on Yorktown base in six weeks.”

Something that must have been stress visibly released from Jim’s shoulders and he melted into his chair in relief. “Yeah, yeah we can do that.”

“Get some sleep, Jim. We’ll talk again soon.” Very soon, if he had anything to do with it.

“Night, sir,” Jim fidgeted, “And thanks.”

Chris stared at the ‘fleet logo oscillating on the screen after the connection closed.

Takes a village indeed.

“Phil,” he called into the depths of the apartment, “suit up!”

**********

Travelling with a four-month old was better and worse than Chris could have imagined. Barnett had approved six-months of paternal adoption leave within four hours of Chris taking Georgia home from the hospital, despite the fact that a) he wasn’t _strictly_ her father and b) he kept doing some work just to stay sane.

Phil was ostensibly making an inspection run of the Yorktown’s medical facilities, but from the indulgent look on Nogura’s face as he’d signed off on the berths on the Olympus they weren’t fooling anyone. It helped that Chris had been diligent about making the PR rounds— turns out regularly traipsing through the admiralty offices with a smiley baby was the absolute best way to curry favor. 

The _presents_ though, Jesus. She had a new outfit a day for over a month— too bad she outgrew them just as quickly. Captain One had sent a little stuffed tribble _with realistic cooing action!_ and Charles Archer a mobile of famous ‘fleet vessels, including both Enterprises. Chris had dutifully packed it all into bulging duffle bags that Phil wrestled onto the Olympus.

The journey took almost a week, and even Georgia seemed ready to get outside at the end of it. Chris had forgotten how boring space travel could be when confined to the role of passenger. Yorktown base— now that was impressive. Phil must have pulled strings, because instead of an apartment in visiting officers’ housing, they’d been assigned a townhouse overlooking a public greenspace. In his past life, as he called it sometimes, as a captain, he’d never done well with enforced vacations. There was too little to do; and always some facet of the ship or a crewmember who needed his attention instead. Now, as he lazily stirred a pot on the stove and Phil came up behind him with Georgia in one arm, dancing to the music playing over the kitchen speakers, Chris hadn’t felt happier. 

**********

The morning the Enterprise docked, however, Chris woke up feeling unaccountably nervous. Phil must have sensed it, because he rolled over with a sleepy mutter and ran a hand over Chris’ shoulder. Taking that as permission to treat the other man as awake, he asked, “What if—”

Phil’s voice was a sleepy rumble, but alert, “It’ll be fine.”

“But—”

“_Fine_, Chris. Go back to sleep.”

Nothing good ever came from disregarding Phil. He rolled over, and tried to get another half-hour of sleep before Georgia woke up.

Their townhouse was in a quieter part of the starbase and the park in front sparsely populated during the day; it seemed like the perfect place for a more private first meeting on neutral territory. He’d dressed Georgia in a little yellow sundress and Phil put a bow on her head that helped hide the fact she was still working on growing much in the way of hair. She wasn’t bald, just blonde enough that her downy wisps could get lost in bright sunlight. Georgia was a beautiful baby, though, even if Chris was biased, with an alertness in her bright blue eyes and a ready smile.

They’d been sitting on a picnic blanket for a little while, Phil dangling a toy for Georgia to bat at with her hands, when in the distance a blot of color came off a side-street: Kirk and McCoy, still in their uniforms.

He made to stand, but a hand on his arm kept him sprawled on the blanket until the other men were almost upon them. Phil gave a squeeze of support and released his hold once Jim and Leonard paused at the edge of the blanket. Standing, he could see the uncertainty on Jim’s face along with the trace of an emotion that was probably fear. It was enough to make him pull the younger man into a firm hug as Phil exchanged greetings with McCoy. “Come on, son,” he motioned that Jim should move to kneel with him on the blanket, “It’s about time you two met properly.

Sinking down onto his knees, Jim gave a little wave and weakly offered, “Hi.” The younger man looked utterly bemused and incredibly out of his depth, despite the fact that they talked on the comm every few days. “I’m your daddy.” Georgia reached up with all four limbs at once and Jim shot a nervous sideways glance before carefully moving to pick her up. She gave a brief squawk, no doubt sensing the lack of confidence on the part of her handler, then settled into his arms, craning back to look at Jim’s face. McCoy moved in close as well, cupping the back of Georgia’s head in one large palm. 

Both men seemed entranced for a moment, then Leonard looked up and favored Chris with a warm smile and offered, “She’s beautiful.”

Chris smiled back, but deflected, “I can’t exactly take credit for that.”

Jim’s cheeks pinked, as if the very thought of Chris implying he knew something of the younger man’s sex life was more than he could take.

“Let me rephrase,” McCoy gently ran his hand over her downy hair, grinning as she arched into the touch, “She’s obviously happy and she sure is bright-eyed.” 

Phil leaned against Chris’ shoulder as he replied for both of them, “_That_ we’ll let you thank us for.”

Jim didn’t even seemed to have heard the rest of the exchange, blue eyes so focused on his daughter’s. He tentatively wriggled his fingers on her stomach and she chortled, which encouraged him to try it again. Georgia laughed and squealed; Jim exhaled a gust of breath, then glanced up at McCoy with a look that seemed to say, _“Are you seeing this, Bones?”_ The doctor appeared to read it well enough, because he snorted and patted the younger man on the knee.

It was enough to break the ice properly— McCoy sprawled out on the blanket, obviously enjoying the artificial sunlight on his face, while Jim settled with Georgia cradled in his lap more comfortably. There was something endearing about the youngest captain in the ‘fleet earnestly attempting to play patty cake with a baby whose motor development wasn’t quite up for it yet. The conversation stayed pretty casual: mostly the Enterprise’s most recent mission and ‘fleet gossip they hadn’t shared over the comm. It was only eleven in the morning, but Chris caught himself yawning nonetheless

McCoy, apparently, caught it as well, because he shielded his gaze from the light for a moment and drawled, “Looks like you two could do with a night off. How about Jim takes daddy-duty tonight?”

From the way Jim’s head snapped around it was clear the offer had been extended without consultation. 

Chris was surprised as well, both by the suggestion and by the sudden surge of uncertainty at leaving her with anyone else. He started to say something, but Phil interceded on his behalf, “That’s an excellent idea, Leonard. You can take the townhouse and we’ll check into a hotel.”

What? For a moment, Chris felt as dumbstruck as Jim looked. They would?

“Perfect.” McCoy nodded, decisively, “We’ll be over at five.” He moved as if to stand and waved a hand, “Come on, Jim, you can moon over your daughter later. The commodore is expecting us.”

If the young captain took a little longer than necessary settling Georgia back on the blanket, no one was going to call him on it.

**********

Five o’clock meant Chris had _hours_ to have multiple nervous panics over the course of the afternoon: what if Kirk dropped her? What if she missed him and wouldn’t stop crying? What if McCoy fell asleep and didn’t change her diaper? Eventually, Phil took him by the shoulders and gave him a little shake, “Chris, McCoy is a doctor and Kirk is trusted with hundreds of lives on a daily basis: they can spend a night changing diapers and bottle feeding.”

“But—”

“You’ve left her with your yeoman while you were in a meeting. You left her with _Nogura_ during those negotiations with the Caitan ambassador…”

Chris couldn’t suppress the urge to protest that this was different. “But—”

“You were doing this all alone for weeks before I got my head out of my ass; we’ve been living together for months but haven’t ever been on a date, much less had a night to ourselves. For eighteen hours she is going to be looked after by her father, lovable idiot though he may be, and his best-friend-who-has-yet-to-pull-his-head-out-of-his-ass and they will all be just fine.”

Chris couldn’t really argue against that, but it only left him feeling marginally better.

Georgia gave a little squawk at being left out, so Phil spun and swooped her up, giving her a little jiggle as he sing-songed, “Geor-gia: Grandpa Chris is neglecting Grandpa Phil even though S-E-X is on the table.”

Chris was aghast, “Oh my god, Phil! You can’t do that.”

Phil’s voice remained stubbornly high-pitched as he waggled his fingers, “Oh, does Chrissy not like me talking about S-E-X in front of the B-A-B-Y?”

“Phil!” Chis was dimly aware his wail could put Georgia to shame. The other man opened his mouth to no doubt say something equally horrific, so he capitulated, “Fine! Just don’t talk like that again, please!”

As he lowered Georgia back into her highchair, Phil looked insufferably smug.

**********

When the doorbell rang Phil shot Chris a quelling look that kept him meekly sitting on the sofa while the other man went to answer the door. Georgia was gurgling on a thick blanket on the floor, alternating between trying to stuff a rattle or her fist into her mouth.

It was McCoy who reached out and swept her up with a warm, “Hi there, babygirl,” as Jim trailed him into the living room with a surprisingly bashful smile.

Phil followed them in, quickly asserting, “Why don’t I show you where everything is while Chris grabs our jackets.” 

It was a transparent gambit to prevent any last minute cold feet, but it seemed to work because Jim whipped out a padd to take _notes_, of all things, and Chris felt that flutter of nerves in his chest ease ever so slightly. Still, he hovered by the door instead of following them around the townhouse; the last thing he needed to do was freak the kid out by breathing down his neck.

He managed to not have a little crise de nerfs as the door shut behind them and Phil guided them down the front steps and into the street.

By the time they were sitting down together to an uninterrupted hot meal, Chris was forced to admit that this might have been a good idea.

By the time they got to the fancy hotel room Phil had booked in the leisure district, Chris was forced to admit that it had been a _great_ idea.


	3. Chapter 3

Chris startled awake at 0525 with a full-body jerk and the all-consuming fear that he’d forgotten to do something important. His heart hammered for a good ten seconds before he remembered: Yorktown, Kirk, hotel. Chris didn’t think anything in particular had woken him— his comm appeared to be resting on the charger without a light blinking. He picked it up just to be sure and a message appeared that had been sent low-priority; presumably to avoid triggering an alert. It was a photo taken sometime around midnight: Jim was seated in the rocker in Georgia’s room and in the halo of lamplight she looked utterly content curled fast asleep against his chest. McCoy had captured a complex expression on the younger man’s face: awe and worry and hope and yearning and what was probably love as well. It was a beautiful photo— he’d have taken it for a portrait if not for knowing it was candid.

Chris hadn’t realized Phil had woken and was peering at the photo as well before the other man’s voice softly asked, “What are we offering?”

“What do you think we should offer?”

“Nuh-uh,” Phil pressed his lips to the patch of bare skin behind Chris’ ear, “I asked you first.”

“We’ve talked about this before; a little.”

The attempt to deflect was swiftly rejected, “Well it’s about to come to a head now, so we need to be clear.”

He hadn’t quite said it out loud yet, but in the pre-dawn the words came with conviction: “Whatever they need.”

“That’s a hell of a lot.”

It was. Chris licked his lips; they’d been friends for years, of course, but this ill-defined, deeper thing between them was very new. “Are you okay with that?”

Phil’s arms came around him from behind, pulling Chris flush against a strong chest and lean body. “I have one condition,” He shimmied even closer and whispered, “Let’s make us official.”

Chris stiffened, then fought to spin around in Phil’s embrace to demand, “Did you just ask me to marry you?”

There wasn’t enough light for Phil’s face to be distinct, but his voice was clear as he softly asserted, “Yes. Will you?”

A beat of silence, where Chris felt like his heart was about to batter its way out of his chest, then in a voice that sounded strange to his own ears, “Yes.” That felt good, so he tried again, “Yes, Phil. Oh my god how, l—” he was blabbering, but Phil didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the other man took it as an excuse to shut Chris up. With his mouth.

_Oh_.

Phil always did have the best ideas.

**********

Five hours later, nursing cups of coffee as the minutes counted down to check-out time, Chris cleared his throat and stated, “The media will have a field day with this.” Phil just raised an eyebrow so he continued, “Heroic young captain with tragic origin story has daughter with tragic origin story. Not to mention that I don’t think he knew her mother beyond,” Chris winced, suggestively, “you know.”

“Control the narrative,” Phil tapped on the photo still displayed on Chris’ comm screen, where Jim’s face was filled with emotion, “No one can argue with that.”

**********

For someone so big on _controlling the narrative_, Phil did the precise opposite when he sauntered into the kitchen of their townhouse at 11:15am, Chris in tow, and unceremoniously dropped his overnight bag inside the door and announced, “We’re getting mar-ried!”

“What!” McCoy spun around from where he’d been doing something in the sink to ask, “When?”

The response didn’t mute Phil’s enthusiasm in the slightest: “No idea!”

A clatter from the doorway to the dining room and Jim appeared with Georgia in one arm, demanding, “You’re—”

“Getting married. I asked Chris last night.” Phil sounded incredibly smug for a man who hadn’t asked so much as suggested.

McCoy’s eyebrows were still doing something complicated, but he hurried to dry his hands on a towel and exclaim, “Congratulations!”

Jim’s expression flipped from dawning excitement to worry in a heartbeat and he shifted Georgia in his arms as he tried to ask, “Is this— it’s not—”

Chris figured it out immediately, quickly reassuring, “It’s not because we think we have to, Jim.” 

Honesty, Phil added, “Although it certainly helped us figure things out.”

That seemed to get through as the tension vanished. “I’m really happy for you,” Jim’s smile was warm with mingled relief and joy, “Any idea when?”

Chris gave a little nod, so Phil hedged, “Maybe six or nine months— when the Enterprise is next Earthside. Would give family and friends enough notice as well.” There was no point procrastinating; he tried to get straight to the point: “We also need to talk with you as well.”

Leonard stilled, then gave a sheepish half-smile as he admitted, “We kind of figured. Living room?”

Chris resisted the urge to take Georgia back from Jim as they settled onto the sofas, Phil a reassuring presence at his side. “So—” he splayed his hands helplessly, already at an impasse. The younger men just stared back, looking nervous, so he forced himself to soldier on, “I guess we need to get a sense of your plans, and what kinds of roles we’re talking about here. I know it’s only been four months, but Phil and I are pretty smitten with her. We can offer a stable home in San Francisco, for as long as she needs it.” Phil’s hand gripped his knee and gave a squeeze. Now to the crux of it: “If you want to surrender your parental rights we’d understand, and not think less of you, but if you don’t it’s important she spends as much time with you as she can.” The _you_ was a little ambiguous. Jim, certainly, but...

“I want to be her dad. As best as I can.” Damn, the kid looked uncertain. “Bones—” Jim couldn’t ask; it had to be offered.

McCoy swallowed, gaze flitting over Jim and Georgia and feeding some complex emotions that eventually appeared as a small smile curling the corner of his mouth. “Yeah,” he slid closer on the sofa, reaching out to gently cup Georgia’s shoulder as he slid an arm around Jim as well. “Yeah, I’m in. If you want to be serious about this, Jim, then I’ll do it. With you.”

“Really?”

Chris shifted, aware they were witnessing something very, very personal. McCoy just ignored them, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jim’s temple before he asserted, “Really.”

“Bones,” Jim’s voice was choked and he looked like he couldn’t quite believe that, yes, this was his life. “I could request reassignment to Earth. You could get a research lab and I’d, I dunno, do something at the academy and yell at cadets to keep off our lawn.”

“You’d give up the Enterprise?” McCoy’s eyebrows drew together in a way that was both knowing and gently skeptical.

That two-second pause before Jim could say yes spoke volumes and Phil gently inserted himself into the conversation with a name, “Eirene.”

“What?” McCoy frowned in obvious confusion.

“A new starbase just being completed in the Laurentian frontier.” 

Phil raised an eyebrow suggestively, and Chris picked up the narrative even though it hadn’t occurred to him before, quickly realizing what the suggestion could be, “It’s the same scale as Yorktown base— a million personnel, plus families and visitors— and will be the culmination of the last twenty years of Starfleet’s efforts in that sector. There are over two dozen Federation entry treaties to be negotiated and finalized and four sectors of near but unexplored territory beyond the frontier. Trade-goods suggest there are at least a dozen warp-capable species the Federation hasn’t made contact with, and an unknown number of inhabitable planets. Plus there’s reports of a binary star system with some quantum effects the science teams have been salivating to explore further, and one of the planets petitioning for entry claims to have the basis of a cure for Taggart's syndrome, but no one has formally assessed it yet. ”

Jim was leaning forward in his chair, clearly interested in what he was hearing, and McCoy was paying close attention as well.

“They’ll want to park an admiral in charge of the station and have vessels on mostly two to twelve week missions, almost all of which would pass through the station directly; primarily diplomatic, scientific, and exploration. Some milk-runs safe enough for a child. I think I heard Chandra float the Enterprise recently, but they assumed you’d want the five-year mission in this sector. I know I’m on the shortlist for station commander. Phil could work something out; might have to go back and forth a bit.” Chris couldn’t tamp down his own growing excitement that _this just might work_. “Nothing has been announced yet. The starbase won’t be operational for another nine or ten months.”

McCoy tightened the arm around Jim’s shoulder, mindful of Georgia as he pressed their bodies together and asserted, “Let’s go for it.”

“You’re sure? Bones, we’d be doing runs in deep space—”

There wasn’t a shred of doubt in McCoy’s eyes as he asserted, “I’m sure.”


	4. Chapter 4

For all the time they already spent together on duty, it took zero effort to convince the senior staff of the Enterprise to meet for lunch the next day. Chris and Phil were invited too, trailing along behind the younger men as unobtrusively as they could. It was Kirk’s moment, and in true fashion the young captain made sure they were just fashionably late enough that everyone else was already seated in a private room when they strode through the doorway. It was immediately clear why Jim had insisted on carrying his daughter himself, given how the conversation ceased and all eyes turned to the door.

“Everyone,” Jim beamed, holding Georgia up just like Chris had less than two months ago, “We’d like you to meet our daughter.”

_Silence_.

Uhura’s eyes narrowed, gaze flitting from Jim, to the baby, over to Leonard, then back to Jim.

“But how—” Chekov’s question was bitten off by an elbow to the ribs from Scotty. The engineer’s face was fixed in a contradictory expression; mouth attempting to smile even as his eyes were utterly confused.

Spock’s mouth opened, as if he was about to pose a long and convoluted question as to the veracity of the statement, only to be beaten by Sulu cutting-in to demand, “Whose daughter?”

“Mine,” Damn, the kid sounded proud of himself, even as he amended, “Mine and Bones’.” Hands full, he jerked his head towards Chris and Phil. “They’re the grandpas.”

“Bullshit.” Sulu extended his hands and wiggled his fingers, “Too cute. Gimme.”

Jim’s smile only broadened and he moved to carefully transfer Georgia into his helmsman’s capable grasp.

Leonard took that moment to join the conversation, voice just ever so slightly gruff with something that might have been embarrassment mingled with fondness, “Her name’s Georgia, and she’s four and a half months old.”

Chris caught Uhura’s expression shifting to something more knowing as she presumably did the same counting back as Chris himself had done. She raised one elegant eyebrow even as she placed a gentle hand on Spock’s sleeve, presumably to prevent him having a Vulcan stroke of some sort. “And when you say ‘yours and Leonard’s’…”

“We’re uh,” Leonard’s cheeks pinked ever so slightly, “in this together.”

“Oh, Bones,” Jim turned his attention away from Sulu just for a moment, batting his eyelashes, “you say the sweetest things.” It was enough to make Scott give a snort and appear to begin coming around, although he had the distinct air of a man wondering if it wasn’t too early to order a drink.

“Admiral Pike,” Spock moved to stand as if seeing Chris and Phil for the first time, “I was unaware you were—”

“It’s just Chris, Spock. I’m off-duty.”

The Vulcan looked distinctly uncertain; must be that half-human side showing through, “I was unaware you were on Yorktown. Did her mother bring—”

Jim shook his head swiftly, cutting off the question. “Chris and Phil brought her out. There’s just me.” Leonard’s hand gave Jim’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and he amended, “Us.”

From the expressions around the table the note of finality in Jim’s tone came through loud and clear. There was some uncomfortable shuffling and Chekov swallowed, visibly unsure what to say in response to a statement like that.

It was Uhura who broke the silence, “Well, Georgia,” she moved to stand by Sulu’s side, crouching down to run her hand over one tiny shoulder, “Looks like you’re going to need an Auntie Ny to help these guys out.”

Chris was sure his relief was mirrored on Jim’s face.

**********

Peering around the curtain, Chris was surprised by how many people were there. Every chair was taken— fifty people, over half of whom had come from light years away.

Phil and Leonard were standing by the officiant at the end of the somewhat makeshift aisle, and damn those men had an easy grace to their frames. It figured; surgeons: lots of experience standing around.

“You better not be getting cold feet.” Chris jumped at the sudden voice by his ear, spinning around to find Jim in a black tuxedo, Georgia in his arms looking slightly bemused by her crown of flowers.

“Jim—” The words Chris wanted to say got caught in his throat, but the younger man seemed to understand anyway as his eyes softened.

Georgia leaned forwards towards Chris and Jim let her for a moment, before gently untangling small fingers from his boutonnière and smoothing it back into place

“You still insisting on doing this without your cane?”

“Yes.” Gods, yes. He might need to get it at some point during the reception, but he was going to walk to Phil on his own two feet.

“Alright then,” Jim gave a warm smile, “just remember I can only keep one of you upright at a time.” He set Georgia on the floor so she could toddle unsteadily but determinedly down the aisle, one of Jim’s index fingers gripped in each of her hands.

They walked together, Georgia lunging to lead the way when she spotted her Pops and Papa. Hunched over though he was, Jim smiled at the guests and was a reassuring presence by Chris’ side until they were about halfway there… just close enough for him to really take in _Phil_, with a little smile and an expression on his face that was somewhere between awe and elation. Everything else just kind of faded away.

He was dimly aware of Jim taking his place as Chris’ own best man, Georgia in his arms, and Leonard and Phil moving to face the officiant, but then everything tunneled into a sensation of being enveloped by warmth.

Family.

Holy shit.

It only took him fifty-eight years to figure it out.


End file.
